Trapped By The Ruthless Mafia Boss

at, wrapping it even tighter. The Brooklyn wind pierced straight thr

unbearably-a deep, pulsating pain that spread from her worn-out sneakers all the way to her calves. Just thinking about having

eech shattered the

y shipping container, her heart pounding hard against her ribs like a trapped bird. Her back presse

e and peeked around th

warehouse. The engine spun idly, roaring low, threatening through the originally dead air.

y, making them chilling to watch. They drew pistols with silencers, their eye

he car in the

uit-that outfit might have earned her more in a year. Even from a distance, under

Broderick

r to the Lancaster family's wealth, someone who moved between the Wall Street

dragged out a heavy burlap sack. The bag wasn't just heavy-it slumped down. A dark red liquid, black

Tick-tock

held a cigarette between his lips, his movements casual but fix

barrel. The surrounding air flickered with chemical smoke, thick with sour and rotten o

ed, nauseating noise-the sound of being swallo

he almost threw up the greasy hot dog she had for dinner. She kept her

isp

ened h

harply-a brutally handsome face, full of sharp edges and cold perfection, like a fallen angel s

't just alarming-it's screaming, a primal

o leave t

ck. Her foot steppe

nd by a homeless man sh

rough the industrial cemetery. It sounded

g the lighter and light

sharp and cold like eagles, pierced through the darkn

red, like the eyes of a demon. As he spoke, a wisp of smoke curled up

that

simple. A d

, spreading out in a skilled tactical fo

her exhaustion. She suddenly turned and ran. She rushes into a maze made of decay

ff" came f

hes above her head. It was a silencing g

er "p

. A sharp sting sliced across her cheek. She reached out and touched

dustrial maze, her body moving with a desperate

e men-Tate-cursing into the wa

ind her grew loud

gunshot

was like being struck by a sledgehammer-it threw her forward, her

ulfing her and dragging her into unconsciousness. She bit her l

stop. Stoppin

t arm hanging weakly at her side. In front of them was a tall barbed

fingers and climbed upward; the rusty metal tore at her palm, her finger

to the other side. It didn't fall on concrete-

ditch. A se

plunging her body into the cold, foul-smelling water. The cold m

all, submerging herself in the water, leavi

werful flashlight sliced through the darkness, sweeping back and forth acros

ower, more composed. It was the sound of expen

der

city sky. He gazed down at the ditch, his gaze sweeping over the exact spot where she was

ence. There was a small dark red bloodsta

t took out his phone

cold blade, cutting t

k the pharmacy. Give me a list of people who buy suture kits or strong antibi

pau

her, bring her

had just signed her death sentence, Jasmine Weaver closed her eyes. A tear of despa